


On Fire(d)

by Stealthlamb1



Series: On Fire(d) [1]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stealthlamb1/pseuds/Stealthlamb1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t know what you want me to say, Harvey. What do you want from me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I want you to show me you’re sorry, Mike!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Timelines in this piece are non-existent (“non-linear, non-subjective, wibbly wobbly, timey wimey…” Sorry, the new Doctor Who premier… I’m geeking out). 
> 
> Anyway, don’t try to place the progression of events, just get into the blue box and go with the flow. 
> 
>  
> 
> First D/s themed fic ever so be kind… or not, but kindness encourages - No beta - all mistakes are my own

On Fire(d)

 

 

 

He fingered the black and white photograph of himself with bitter fondness. It was a candid shot taken by Benjamin in IT. The computer geek originally claimed it to be practice before taking the actual head-shot to replace Mike’s most recently misplaced identification card, but four snapshots later the brunette finally admitted to being an amateur photographer and he couldn't help himself because the camera apparently loved Mike.

 

 

As photographers were prone to do, Benjamin had been documenting the entire firm on celluloid for months. There were snapshots of security guards, passersby, paralegals, delivery boys and lawyers - some more familiar than others, some posturing for the lens, most covert.

 

 

Anyone passing through the doors of Pearson Darby were fair game, and once immortalized, their likenesses were carefully placed in one of a dozen or so scrapbooks Benjamin kept in the bottom drawer of his office desk; one of which Mike had been thumbing through when this particular shot was frozen in time.

 

 

This photograph, Mike knows was given to Rachael toward the end of their relationship. He remembers vividly her remarking that she’d never seen him like that – practically glowing – head bowed, a half smile curling the edges of his lips, the sun flooding through the windows behind him in the empty office making him appear ethereal, peaceful, more content than she'd ever seen him.

 

 

She’d demanded almost angrily to know what he was doing to put that expression on his face. 

 

 

He should have taken her overreaction as the foreshadowing it was, but reading people had never been his strong suit.

 

 

He never told her what he was looking at was a similar image Benjamin had taken of her that captured his attention before the shot was taken… Because it wasn’t.

 

 

The pictures had been of him and Harvey - dozens of them taken over the span of his time working at the firm. Secretive looks, fond smiles, and innocuous touches all chronicled in black and white; undeniable evidence of something more Mike thought he kept well hidden.

 

 

Even more surprising was seeing that same thing reflecting back at him in Harvey.

 

 

And then everything went to hell. Between him and Harvey - Harvey and Jessica. And he mourned the loss of something that never had a chance and he hadn't felt happy or content since.

 

 

His photo of Rachael now rested in the bottom of his dresser drawer. But why his image was in the top drawer of Harvey’s desk was a puzzle. For some reason - or no reason at all he’d kept it in his hand as he picked up the file Louis asked him to grab.

 

 

OoO

 

 

When Mike shows up at Harvey’s front door he isn’t sure what he’s feeling, he's gotten so used to numbness regarding anything not work related. But the loss, guilt and loneliness he's worked hard to bury since Jessica made him betray his mentor is bubbling up again, pushing past the isolation he's come to embrace over the last few weeks of dealing with Harvey’s rejection and indifference.

 

 

The call came sometime in the late afternoon and by sheer luck, or stupidity he thinks now as he knocks on the door for a second time, he’d been the one to answer.

 

 

Why Harvey would be calling his own office phone on his day off hadn’t even crossed Mike’s mind at the time, though why he was in his ex-boss’ office on said boss’ day off to answer the phone had been on Harvey’s.

 

 

He tried to explain Louis’ role; the request to have a fresh pair of eyes take a look at the client's file, but Harvey was hearing none of it, running rough-shot over any explanation. The conversation was abrasive and curt, a bit like Harvey him-self, ending abruptly with Mike having to personally play messenger boy, bringing the file to Harvey at home.

 

 

As Mike lifted his hand for a third time the door jerked opened. Though he wasn’t working for Harvey anymore, he still hadn’t grown immune to the scrutiny of that sharp brown-eyed gaze. Dumbly he held out the file.

 

 

“This the right one?” He asked the empty entranceway Harvey had just vacated. “Harvey?”

 

 

Cautiously, as if entering a murder scene, Mike took a step forward and then another until he was passed the threshold. The condo, from what he could see of it was just as he remembered: artwork dominating the walls, the large sitting area the focal point of the vast room. The buttery soft leather couch looked comfortable, as though it had probably cost a mint, but was hardly ever used. The coffee table was a typical showroom piece of glass and wood, right down to the few deliberately placed items that dotted its surface, which included, Mike noted, two glasses of whiskey.

 

 

“Should I just leave it here on the coffee table then?” He called out in no particular direction.

 

 

He almost jumped out of his skin when Harvey’s gruff voice came from behind him – whiskey laced breath close enough to displace a few long strands of pepetually stray blond hairs tucked haphazardly behind his ear, overgrown since he’d stopped his rigid grooming regiment. “Sit.”

 

 

Mike cursed himself for being so obliging, though he was happy to find that he’d been right about the couch. It was very comfortable. A glass of amber liquid was thrust into his hand before he had the chance to ruminate further on the décor.

 

 

He watched warily as Harvey moved around the room, picking up a few stray items before taking a seat himself in a single leather chair across from him. It felt like his associate interview all over again, and despite the comfort of the sofa he found himself suddenly, extremely uncomfortable. This was the first time they’d been in such close proximity to each other since he’d been fired.

 

 

“I fired you.”  As if Mike needed reminding.

 

 

“Yes. I remember,” he answered back with the practiced casual indifference he’d cultivated and turned into an art form over the past month. “Was there something else or did you just feel the need to remind me of that in person.”

 

 

Harvey smiled cruelly. “Though I’ll admit I was disappointed there weren’t more tears there was this brief flicker of the world as you knew it coming to an end I was able to commit to memory before you walked out.”

 

 

“Good times.” Mike’s voice was clipped, but the sadness so overwhelmingly obvious Harvey had to take a beat to force himself to stay on track.

 

 

“So why were you in my office?” The way Harvey settled back into his chair, tumbler casually dangling from his fingers made Mike feel as though he was sitting in on a deposition, on the other side of the table from his former mentor instead of by his side. His gut clenched painfully.

 

 

“Louis asked me to take a look at your new client’s file to see if settling was really the best option.”

 

 

“That was this morning.” Harvey answered quickly, not feeling the need to explain how he’d known.

 

 

Mike had no answer for that. The truth was he’d walked into the office, grabbed the file off the desk and automatically taken a seat to give it the once over. He hadn’t remembered picking up the ball – it was just second nature to do so. He looked for a highlighter. There were none in the cup on the desktop so he’d opened the drawer.

 

 

He doesn’t recall setting the folder down – didn’t realize how much time had passed lost in thought ruminating about the picture he’d found until the ringing of the phone brought him out of is revere.

 

 

“Donna said you were in there for hours, just sort of zoning out. She watched you for over an hour before calling me.” He left out how Donna explained in detail how lost Mike had looked, and at the same time, like he’d come home.

 

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Harvey. What do you want from me?”

 

 

“I want you to show me you’re sorry, Mike!”

 

 

“I did! Over and over. But you wouldn’t listen.  _You_  said we’re done. I -,” Mike choked on the words. “I’m sorry I broke your trust. I tried to get it back…” He swallows hard.

 

 

“No. You didn't. If you had you would have fought harder. Said something. Done something different to show me that you wanted to stay, not run to the first partner to ask you to be their associate.”

 

 

“So this is about jealousy?” Mike asked incredulously. While he would admit working with Louis was actually not as bad as one would think he was certainly no substitution for Harvey.

 

 

“You are the most dependent, self destructive person I have ever met in my entire life.”

 

 

“I’m dependent!” Mike snatched the folder off the table producing the photograph. “What’s this about then?”

 

 

“House cleaning,” Harvey commented gruffly, snatching the photo back and reverantly placing it on his sidetable. “Rachael gave it to Donna when you two... after you took off with Louis.”

 

 

“I didn’t take off, Harvey. You got rid of me.” Mike averted his eyes. They both did. 

 

 

The blond was shocked when a calloused hand gripped his chin bruisingly tight, forcing Mike to face his steely stare. “I pushed you away because I trusted you Implicitly and you betrayed me.” They didn’t break their gaze, wide blue eyes staring longingly into fierce brown.

 

 

Harvey’s thumb trailed lightly across his cheek, but when Mike closed his eyes the spell was broken, and Harvey quickly pulled back as if he’d only just realized what he’d been doing.

 

 

“I have no regrets firing you except that I still have to see you everyday.” It was a half-truth.

 

 

He didn’t regret firing Mike… at the time. Loyalty was more important to him than anything. And then the moment passed, and by sundown it wasn’t, but the damage was done, their bond was severed and their relationship was hemorrhaging. All the warmth and camaraderie was bleeding out, leaving an ever-growing expanse of cold and distance between them and Harvey was too fucking stubborn to let Mike back in.

 

 

“Right.” Mike hiccupped a sob, unable to hold it in. Tears were streaming down his face but Harvey didn’t think the kid even noticed. “I made a mistake and that’s all you’re ever going to remember of me.”

 

 

It took an incredible amount of self control for Harvey not to reach out and wipe away the single tear that found it’s way to the brim of Mike’s lip. His eyes followed the progression of another until they joined and gathered into a perfect droplet that clung to the delicate pink flesh. Harvey waited, watched it fall, regretting not taking it onto the pad of his thumb and bringing it to his own mouth. He wanted to taste the remorse – Even more, he wanted to lick those tears from Mike’s lips.

 

 

And in that instant, Harvey knew how to get Mike back – get things right between them. Mike needed to repent and Harvey needed to be able to let go.

 

 

“It was more than one mistake.” Harvey waited until Mike nodded in resignation, then added “frustration.”

 

 

Mike turned to face him, perplexed. “Well, I remember a lot of frustration and your pretty mouth, but in your case the two seem to be mutually exclusive.”

 

 

Mike swallowed hard. He hadn’t expected Harvey to put a voice to what could have been between them, especially now when things were so wrong.

 

 

“You were never just my underling, Mike."

 

 

Harvey lets the words tumble out. Between the liquor he’s consumed and Mike’s vulnerability, right now he’s confident he can fix this – or at least not fuck it up any worse than it already is. "But I couldn’t - well, I could’ve I suppose but I needed more time - thought I’d have more time, but it’s never been _just_ anyting with you and things kept getting more complicated.”

 

 

“And now?” Mike’s voice is shaky and uncertain, like he knows what Harvey is saying but is too afraid to admit it.

 

 

“Well, now I have an entire pound to choose from, don’t I?” He digs because he wants to keep Mike off balance. “I mean the brunette is arrogant, but not in the good way.”

 

 

Greg.

 

 

“Blondish-red…” Harvey waives his hand in the air miming what Mike thinks is curly hair – so Harold then. “Well, he can be quite entertaining when he’s not being all self depreciating. It takes away from my insults when he agrees with what a waste he is. Besides I wouldn’t let him touch my cases with a ten-foot pole. He may get himself fired before I have a chance to grow attached.”

 

 

He eyes Mike fondly, watching the insecurity unfurl and blanket the room. He loved that about Mike – Loves the way he can be the brightest most beautiful person in the room and still doubt himself – not believe how truly amazing he is unless it comes from Harvey.

 

 

"The purebreds just aren’t nearly as well trained as my last puppy.” He admits.

 

 

“And Seth,” Mike’s actually curious, because Seth is smart enough that he can probably be put in his place if Harvey wants to take the time. The worry must come through in his tone because Harvey grins as he sets his glass down. He stands and Mike obediently follows suit, thinking he's about to be shown the door, but instead, Harvey steps in close. 

 

 

“Doesn’t have the hair. I miss your hair.” To prove his point, Harvey tangles his fingers into the mass of blond locks and tugs.

 

 

“And my pretty mouth?” Mike whispers hopefully, their lips inches apart.

 

 

The kiss is slow and not very deep, Harvey’s lips skating gently across Mike’s merely to taste. "I want you back, Mike." Harvey's hand clasps possessively around the base of Mike's skull.

 

 

"But Louis-"

 

 

"Doesn't get you." 'The way I do' is present even though it isn't said aloud, but Mike hears it because Harvey meant for him to.

 

 

"I already said yes, Harvey." Mike makes it sound like he'd signed a blood oath.

 

 

"You did. To me. When I hired you. And I’m well within my right to take back what’s mine."

 

 

"So that's it, then? You just forgive me and we go back to the way things were?" Because even if Harvey says yes, Mike doesn’t think he could forgive himself that easily.

 

 

But as if reading his mind, Harvey laughs and roughly tugs Mike against him. "No. It’s not going to be that easy. And we’re not going back to the way things were.”

 

 

This time the kiss is possessive, and though Mike is still sobbing, the tears are making his lips taste salty, needy and most of all desperate to be forgiven. “It’s going to be better. The way it should have been all along. And you’re never going to doubt where you belong ever again."

 

 

Taking Mike by the hand, he pulls the blond along behind him and into his bedroom. The sun is setting and the light streaming through the floor to ceiling windows is enveloping them in it’s warm glow. With confidence, Harvey rids Mike of this tie and unbuttons Mike’s cuffs and the first three buttons on his  shirt before grabbing the hem, roughly pulling it over his head.

 

 

“Pants.”

 

 

Mike doesn’t even question, just follows iinstructions until he’s stripped bare, willingly awaiting Harvey’s next order while the older man takes his time, painstaking slowly rolling up his sleeves into perfectly smooth cuffs, tight against his muscled forearms.

 

 

Harvey reaches for his belt next and opens his pants, but his movements don’t even register with Mike because his eyes are locked with Harvey’s.

 

 

Harvey steps forward and pulls Mike against him taking greedily – the blond’s hitching breath being devoured; the sadness, the uncertainty and the lonliness all being drawn into Harvey’s lungs leaving behind only the promise of repreive.

 

 

When they break, Harvey takes Mike’s face in his hands and presses his lips to the younger man’s forehead. “Lie down,” he murmurs.

 

 

Mike turns to look at the bed and sits, but before he can recline, Harvey shakes his head. “On your stomach.” He waits, pleased that Mike listens, crawling up until he’s spread out, his face turned away, a pillow clutched to his chest.

 

 

“Have you done this before?” Harvey asks.

 

 

Mike turns to see Harvey stroking his belt and knows Harvey’s not talking about the obvious and shakes his head.

 

 

“Your parents never spanked you?”

 

 

“No.”

 

 

“Your grandmother?”

 

 

Mike purses his lips. “She was nearly 80 when she took me in. What do you think?”

 

 

Harvey nods, but spares a quick “you really think now’s the time to get mouthy with me?”

 

 

Mike doesn’t respond, eyeing the thick expensive leather in Harvey’s hand; lets his eyes drift up to Harvey’s before he turns away and settling back into the pillows. Trusting. Waiting.

 

 

Harvey looks down to the belt and thinking better of it, tosses it aside where it lands quietly on the bedside chair before positioning himself next to Mike’s body. Gently, he smooths the palm of his hand across Mike’s shoulders and down his spine, over Mike’s bare bottom where he spends a fair amount of time caressing the pale globes.

 

 

Mike is tense, but just as he starts to go lax, Harvey brings his hand down hard on the meatiest bit, the crack of flesh on flesh reverberating throughout the sparse room. Mike flinches from the contact, but other than that appears to be perfectly fine. After the second slap, Mike mutters “ _I’m sorry_ ” very quietly.

 

 

“No.” Harvey says gently. “No more words unless it’s red. Understand?” And he follows up his statement with a gentle hand rubbing soothing circles across the blond’s back.

 

 

“Red. Okay.”

 

 

“You sure?” Harvey’s ready to give in. It’s enough.

 

 

Mike’s already submitted to him but they’ve both been suffering and the imploring “please,” that follows is unsurprising.

 

 

From there it’s a continuous staccato rhythm, Harvey keeping the impacts random, but consciously on a different spot each time, both to keep Mike from anticipating and not to overlap too many of the blows to avoid any serious bruising. That kindness goes out the window when he begins to swat in upward strokes on the junture where thighs meet backside, as that zone seems to be a particularly sensitive spot for the blond as his toes curl tightly.

 

 

Harvey continues the spanking, whispering a gentle “don’t bite your lip.” He can’t see Mike’s face, but he knows from experience the involuntary things one does when fighting to remain still under these circumstancs.

 

 

He’s overwhelmed with pride when Mike brings one hand around, wrist resting on the base of his spine, palm up for Harvey to take in his own. It’s an absolute expression of trust and acceptence and Harvey knows now, without a doubt they are going to be okay.

 

 

His grip is gentle in contrast to the unrelenting discipline he continues to reign down, swat after swat, the outline of handprints no longer disernable, camaflouged in a sea of bright red.

 

 

Harvey only stops when his own hand has had enough; tired, burning and stinging, before taking the time to survey the rosey blush he’s painted across Mike’s backside and upper thighs.

 

 

When he places a kiss to the nape of Mike’s sweaty neck, Mike’s toes slowly unfurl and he deflates, his body sinking deeply into the nest of feather pillows beneath him, while Harvey continues stroking gentle figure eights across the knuckles of the hand he’s still holding against Mike’s back.

 

 

“You okay?” Harvey asks, his voice thick with approval and concern and no small amount of lust.

 

 

Mike just nodds silently into the pillow, but Harvey’s having non of that. “Mike.” And Harvey pours everything he’s feeling into his boy’s name coaxing Mike to turn to him.

 

 

There are still tears streaming down his face but he’s no longer sobbing. It’s as if the past few weeks have been purged from his mind and body leaving behind only a sense of peace radiating through those watery eyes and that’s exactly what Harvey was hoping for.

 

 

In luie of answering, Mike releases a shuddering breath and just smiles.

 

 

Harvey takes that as very good sign and captures the swollen lips between his own, adding a gentle chastising nip because he can tell Mike had been biting his bottom lip after being told not to, but then he sucks the plump flesh into his mouth, his toungue soothing the puffy flesh.

 

 

And then they’re kissing, true and deep and full of promise because all the pain and lonlieness and betrayal is gone and Mike is on him, arms like a vice-like around the older man’s neck.

 

 

“Ow,” Mike grumbles, mouth still attached to Harvey’s like he’s being pulled there by some outside force.

 

 

“Sore?” Harvey huffs into Mike’s mouth.

 

 

“Zipper.” Mike kisses back, arching his back slightly to put a little distance between his exposed cock and Harvey’s pants.

 

 

An extra bit of pressure pushes Mike to his knees giving Harvey enough room to shimmy out of his pants, which Mike tosses aside as Harvey removes his shirt.

 

 

Once they settle again, Harvey is on his back with Mike on his stomach pressed against him, his head pillowed on Harvey’s bicep. They’re quiet for a long time.

 

 

“Do you forgive me?” The shocking thing is that the quiet question is asked by Harvey.

 

 

“Harvey, you didn’t do-”

 

 

“I should have done a better job of protecting you.”

 

 

“You couldn’t have known.” Mike presses his palm flat against Harvey’s broad chest.

 

 

“I know what Jessica is capable of. And I knew how vulnerable you were – are – and I left you exposed. She took advantage-”

 

 

“Because I’m a weakness.” Mike supplies self-depreciatingly.

 

 

“No Mike, I was the weak one. She wouldn’t have been able to use our secret against you if I had just stepped up sooner and let her know – everyone know that you’re mine.”

 

 

“I am you know.” Mike whispers, planting a kiss to Harvey’s breast bone, then another to his ribcage. He gets as far Harvey’s abdomen when his chin is grasped and he’s pulled back up to settle on Harvey’s shoulder.

 

 

“I know. We’re good, okay?”

 

 

“But…” Mike looks up, uncertain once again.

 

 

Harvey takes Mike’s hand and preses it against his own thick member and smiles reassuringly, his palm in constant motion gliding back and forth across Mike’s abused flesh, the heat emenating from earlier spanking and the tightening of Mike’s grip and accompanying hiss temporarily staving off Harvey’s need for more.

 

 

“That’s not for tonight. Right now I just want to hold you for awhile.”

 

 

 

Harvey shifts slightly, but Mike remains blissfully still. Harve smiles the moment Mike reconciles the sound of the click with what he knows to be Harvey’s camera phone and abruptly pulls away.

 

 

“Did you just take a picture of my ass?”

 

 

Harvey grins and turns the screen for Mike to see, as he rubs his hand across the heated flesh causing Mike to wince. “I’m replacing he lizard print in my office.” Harvey threatens lightly.

 

 

He watches Mike’s face intently. Even as the boy’s cheeks flush with embarrassment it’s the underlying rapt facination that Harvey is concentrating on. 

 

 

He can tell that Mike is wondering what this whole scene is going to mean for them moving forward, and he can’t deny the dirty thrill he gets from seeing the evidene of his hands on Mike’s body.

 

 

Mike laughs a little sheepishly as hands the phone back, and Harvey gets a delightful thrill when he feels Mike’s full cock press against the side of his leg. “You can’t put that up in your office.”

 

 

“Can’t I?” Harvey challenges.

 

 

“Harvey, first of all it’s obviously a picture of a man’s ass.” He grabs the phone again, turns it horizontally and points. “See there? Balls. And the spanking? You don’t think that’s going to be offensive to some people?”

 

 

Harvey takes the phone and smiles at the picture. For a quick shot he didn’t take much time to frame it’s actually quite good.  “Fuck people. It’s my office and I worked my ass off for it. I’m going to put what I want on the walls. Besides…” Harvey takes one last look before setting the phone down on the nightstand. “Art is subjective.”

 

 

“You can’t hang a picture of my ass in your office. People will know.”

 

 

“Who’s going to know that’s your ass?”

 

 

“Uh, Rachael for one.”

 

 

“Is not allowed in my office anymore,” Harvey unconsciously tightens his embrace.

 

 

“Donna will know.”

 

 

“Can’t argue with that.”

 

 

“I’ll never be able to look her in the eye,” Mike argues.

 

 

“You can barely look her in the eye now.” Harvey points out.

 

 

“Fine. But if Jessica finds out she’s going to fire you.”

 

 

Harvey laughs. “Oh, I’m telling Jessica the second she asks.” With one arm remaining underneath Mike, Harvey grabs the edge of the sheet covering them both. “And in case you’re thinking of deleting it while I’m asleep, I already emailed it to Donna for framing.”

 

 

“Fuck you,” Mike mumbles giving into sleep.

 

 

“Later.” Harvey promises and closes his eyes.

 

 

A minute later Harvey’s phone buzzes.

 

 

_Donna:  black and white “23.5” x 30” or 33 x 27”? I think the larger. Getting wallet sized too_


	2. The Claiming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he glances up from the screen he sees Benjamin admiring the new addition to his office wall.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> "That's a very nice piece, Mr. Specter." 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Harvey stares directly at Mike, who looks mortified and embarrassed. "It is, isn't it?"
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> "The lighting is fantastic. Who's the photographer?" Benjamin asks stepping closer.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> "Actually..." Mike's eyes widen in horror. "I took it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm, so this was originally going to be a one shot to clear my head, but I'm beginning to wonder...
> 
> Lots of graphic M/M - Explicit - Just saying' 
> 
> As always, if you like, let me know. Kudos and comments only encourage

 ooOOoo

 

 

It’s late when Mike wakes up with Harvey spooned behind him, the older man's hand stroking gently, soft against the flat plain of his belly. He moans sleepily, completely relaxed, instinctively pushing back into Harvey’s groin, realizing his mistake a second too late.

 

 

“Fuck!” he hisses quickly pulling away.

 

 

“Something wrong?” Harvey nibbles his earlobe, amusement in his voice.

 

 

“Your pubes feel like sandpaper.” Mike reaches back, his ass so sore he can hardly stand the feeling of his own touch. 

 

 

Harvey bites back a smile. “I have something for it.”

 

 

Mike folds his arms under his head, listening to Harvey rummage around for a second, then hears the pop of a bottle top snap open before cool cream hits his flesh. He squirms, but Harvey holds him still as he applies a thin layer. 

 

 

“Spread your legs.” Harvey says it neutrally enough, but the words shoot straight to Mike’s groin. “I should have done this right away,” he says more to himself than anything, now spreading the cream liberally in the crease between Mike’s ass and thighs. “That’s definitely going to cause problems tomorrow.” 

 

 

“Next time,” Mike sighs without thinking, and behind him Harvey smirks at the slip.

 

 

“It’s too bad your backside is so tender." He looks at the clock, the little hand on the one. "Technically, it's later.”

 

 

Mike doesn’t realize it, but Harvey’s also popped the cap on a bottle of lube that he trickles down the crease of Mike’s crack, chasing the slick down with his fingers.

 

 

“I want to.” Mike looks over his shoulder, watching Harvey watch his fingers dance back and forth between his cheeks. “I’m serious Harvey.”

 

 

“I know you are.” Harvey presses his fingers deeper toward Mike’s center, while he leans down and kisses Mike’s shoulder. “But I want you to be clear - earlier, that wasn’t about sex.” 

 

 

“I know that.” Mike keeps his eyes trained on his mentor. “I mean, there will be sex, though, right?”

 

 

Harvey presses his lips hard against Mike's as a finger breaches Mike’s hole. He's careful to avoid the spank reddened skin with his knuckles as he twists, and his boy groans gratefully in response. “Yes. There will be sex. And you’re making it hard for me to hold off.” Not that he really intends to.

 

 

Smiling impishly, Mike raises his pert ass in the air. “When have I ever made things easy for you?”

 

 

Harvey can't help but agree and is already on his knees behind the blond working a second finger in alongside the first. Mike’s blush kissed backside moving in tandem with his fingers is too delicious a temptation; a taboo that has him leaking just from the thought of pressing his groin against the heated flesh while he sinks into Mike’s tightness for the first time. 

 

 

“Oh fuck, please Harvey... I really want... I-" Mike reaches his hand back wrapping his long fingers around Harvey's thigh. "I missed you so much and I need..." 

 

 

Mike's babbling and begging and trying desperately to pull Harvey closer. And Harvey gets it. He also needs that connection. Feels it right down to his core. 

 

 

Leaning forward he presses his forehead to the center of Mike's spine, his fingers still working Mike open. "I know." He rolls his head to the side until his cheek is pressed to Mike's back. "Me too."

 

 

Eying the nightstand, Harvey takes hold of the hand around his thigh and places it on the hollow of Mike's lower back, a mirror image of earlier in the night; Mike's subconscious sign of supplication. Pleased when Mike doesn't move it, Harvey pulls free of Mike's body and reaches over him, the stretch pressing his groin flush to Mike's bottom, causing the boy to hiss.

 

 

"Be patient." Harvey goes back to the side table, first retrieving a tissue to clean his fingers and then something else. Settling back behind Mike, he takes hold of the hand and begins wrapping something snugly around the slim wrist.

 

 

"What are you-"

 

 

"Shhh." Harvey chastises. "Its boxing tape." 

 

 

Mike remains still while Harvey completes four passes before releasing the left hand, then moves up, making two more passes just above left his bicep. Tapping Mike's arm for the right, he repeats the process. Once done, he lets go leaving Mike to rest on his elbows, taking in the makeshift wrist and arm cuffs. He jumps a bit when he feels the tape being wound around his legs where his upper thighs meet his still reddened rump, but it doesn't even cross his mind to ask what the older man is doing. The bindings are making him feel claimed, secure and a little bit indecent. 

 

 

Sitting back, Harvey admires his work. "Put your legs together." Harvey's voice is soft but forceful and Mike complies.

 

 

Without being asked, the blond lays his head on the pillows and crosses his arms at the wrist, resting on his lower back. There's a familiar click and Harvey's softly muttered voice. 

 

 

"You're so beautiful, Mike."  

 

 

Mike tries to lift his head to turn, but Harvey is there; his hand easing Mike's head back down, bowed, forehead just touching the pillows accentuating his neck. Then something cool is placed on his upper back just below the nape of his neck and he can feel a delicate chain swinging back and forth, brushing  against his collarbone. Harvey's hand is back, but this time it's to comb through Mike's hair; not smoothing it down but mussing it up, away from his shoulders into a disarray of messy spikes. There's another click, followed by another before Harvey pauses. 

 

 

Unmoving, Mike waits; feels Harvey’s finger trace the circumference of the object on his back, hesitating, before the chain is removed and Mike's wrists once again pulled back. 

 

 

With great care, Harvey unwraps each arm and wrist finishing the process with a gentle kiss to his back once they are freed. 

 

 

"How's the binding around your thighs?" Harvey asks, his hands deliberately stroking the blush-battered flesh of Mike's bottom along with the tape.

 

 

Mike shivers. "It's..." He thinks carefully about his answer. "Sore... but I kind of like it," he admits bashfully.

 

 

"Good." Harvey leans forward rubbing his bare cock up and down in the crease of Mike's ass.

 

 

"Harvey-" Mike pleads, writhing in synch.

 

 

"Yeah." Harvey's not answering, he agreeing wholeheartedly. 

 

 

He's done waiting. 

 

 

Grabbing a condom, he rolls it on one handed unable to resist another solid smack to Mike's ass. Mike hisses but pushes into it. This time when Harvey is ready, he doesn't avoid the abused flesh, instead grabs the tender skin forcefully, leaving white fingerprints that disappear almost the instant he releases his grasp. 

 

 

Harvey's dick is rigid with blood, pointing upwards, positioned perfectly to spear Mike's entrance. Whimpering, Mike reaches back again as Harvey nudges in. 

 

 

"Harvey..." 

 

 

And with that one fractured cry, the damn breaks. Harvey drives forward until Mike’s muscles slowly give way and he’s pistoning his hips; the smooth flesh enveloping him in he folds himself over Mike's back blanketing him, holding slim forearms to the mattress, as he snaps his hips relentlessly, pushing himself deeper into Mike than he thought possible.  

 

 

"Never. Again. Mike." Harvey growls, punctuating each word with a brunt thrust. 

 

 

"Never." Mike chokes out against the punishing rhythm. "I promise, Harvey." He vows. "I'm not going to last," the blond gasps brokenly.

 

 

Harvey let's go gaining purchase on slim shoulders, intentionally angling each calculated upshot to strike Mike's prostate.  

 

 

Mike stays down, restrained by the older man's commanding presence alone, but he's shuddering violently, his hand jutting between his legs to grasp his cock by the base to prevent his quickly approaching orgasm. "Please." Mike pants breathlessly. "I can't-"

 

 

"Cum and your dick get's wrapped next."

 

 

Unbalnced, Harvey’s tight grip on his shoulders the only thing keeping him from faceplanting into the headboard, Mike can only nod and squeeze the base of his shaft tighter.

 

 

And then Harvey's hand is there; thumbing  ruthlessly across Mike's sensitive slit, spreading pre-cum over the thick ridge of Mike's dick, coating the bulbous head in an excruciatingly delicious massage, before trailing down, past the vice of Mike's make-shift cock-ring to fondle his tight, drawn up balls.

 

 

"Harvey!" Mike groans, shaking against his own need. "Please!" 

 

 

Tears are leaking from the corners of his eyes, his desire to come overwhelming, but his need to please Harvey above all else.

 

 

Licking the tears streaming down Mike's cheeks is different than earlier - the droplets sweeter now, drenched in Mike's sweat, obedience and desperation to submit. Harvey's on the precipice - he's been there all along, riding the edge of his own completion selfishly wanting to draw everything out of Mike the boy has to offer. 

 

 

And Mike's lost, doesn't even notice Harvey's fingers wrapping around his own. It takes a surprising amount of force to pry Mike's fingers from his shaft until Harvey headily whispers "let me," before Mike loosens his grasp. 

 

 

Just the feeling of that soft palm engulfing his shaft has Mike trembling, imploring, crying out a tidal wave of whimpers, words and his seed across Harvey's fist and sheets, the older man chasing right behind, stilling, pulsing, being slowly milked into oblivion by Mike's spasming muscles.

 

 

Panting and twitching, his cock softening, Harvey slips from Mike's body, his fingers keeping the condom in place until he's free from Mike's heat. Tying off the condom he tosses it toward the nightstand, before gently peeling away the last of the tape from Mike's upper thighs. 

 

 

For his part Mike stays still, breathing hard, his forehead resting against his forearms – his ass in the air, unable to move a muscle. "Come on. Lie down." Harvey coaxes, basically rolling Mike onto his side and into his waiting arms. 

 

 

"Harvey..."

 

"Don't talk. Just rest." He gathers the blond close consciousness quickly slipping away.

 

 

"Boxers tape?" Mike mumbles, his mind still not getting the message that his body is already shutting down. 

 

 

Harvey laughs against Mike's shoulder. "I was a ring boy at a boxing gym when I was a teenager. Always found it hot watching the boxers walking around in their jocks wrapping their hands."

 

 

“And the chain?”

 

 

“Not just yet. But soon.” Harvey promises, his fingers stoking through Mike’s hair, coming to rest on the nape of his neck where the cool metal briefly rested.

 

 

"I wanna see the pictures, Mike mumbles.

 

 

"Mmmm," Harvey agrees sleepily. "Me too. You are the perfect muse."

 

 

"Not going on your wall, though." Mike trails off, sleep finally overtaking him.

 

 

"We'll see." Harvey buries his nose against Mike's neck, drifting off with a smile on his face.

 

 

ooOOoo

 

 

Harvey slams his fist on the desk. "God Damnit! It froze again! Donna!"

 

 

"Harvey. Just admit you can't fix it and I'll call IT."

 

 

Harvey leans back in his chair. "Fine." 

 

 

"Good. Because I already did."

 

 

"I was almost done. Do you have any idea how long it took me to write that stupid engagement letter?" He grits through clenched teeth. 

 

 

Donna sighs knowing the real reason Harvey's been so cantankerous over the past few days. "Calm down. Mike will be back in a few days and then you can make him do all of your grunt work again." She just hopes Benjamin brings what she asked.

 

 

"I still don't understand why he insisted on staying."

 

 

"Because he gave Louis his word he'd see it through to the end, and he's about to win and UN-winnable case."

 

 

"I know." 

 

 

And Harvey's a bit sore about that too; not that Mike found a way to around imminent domain, because if anyone could have figured a way it would have been him - it's that he's been working day and night. 

 

 

They’ve hardly been with each other since that first time; with Mike coming in at all hours of the morning, barely enough engergy to undress himself – Harvey doing most of the work; a harsh deep kiss and the occasional sleepy handjob before unconsciousness takes him. It’s not that he won’t be working Mike just as hard once he comes back to him, it’s just that he shouldn’t be away, driving himself so hard when Harvey’s not there to look after him - aware enough to know Harvey has been taking care of him afterward. 

 

 

 

"Where the hell is IT?" Harvey grumbles. 

 

 

As if summoned by Harvey's frustration alone, a pasty brunette comes sauntering into his office with a leather binder, a clip board and a pencil behind his ear. "Mr. Specter. I hear you're having some technical difficulties."

 

 

"That's an understatement," Donna mummers, earning herself a dirty look.

 

 

Harvey holds out his hands, gesturing to the offending laptop. "If you can save the last document I was working on there's an extra thousand in it for you."

 

 

The young man rolls his eyes. "If I can't save everything, including the last document you were working on I'm not worth the two hundred and fifty thousand a year the firm pays me, Mr. Specter."

 

 

Harvey takes the act of setting his burden down on the his desk as permission to go through it.  He begins to flip through the binder and his breath cathes, staring down at a chronolgy of almost his entire relationship with his associate. 

 

 

He’s struck dumb by how obvious his affections had been written all over his face – their faces and actions, though not surprised. He catches Benjamin watching him warily, but continues to flip through the album, going for deflection. "Two fifty, huh. That's impressive."

 

 

At that moment, Mike sweeps in to the room, his arms raised, a boastful smile on his face. "I am, aren't I?" 

 

"That remains to be seen." Harvey pushes his chair back allowing room for the brunette to do his thing.

 

 

It's then that Mike notices the computer geek typing away on Harvey's laptop. "Hey Benjamin."

 

 

"I'm working, Michael."

 

 

"Okay. So I'll come by in say," he grins, checking his watch. "Two hours, 22 minutes and 12 seconds." 

 

 

The brunette straightens. "Michael. You know that's my allotted five minutes off the grid."

 

 

"Yes." Mike smiles. "I do."

 

 

"Hello Michael." Benjamin sighs, turning back to the laptop.

 

 

"Judge just ruled." Mike's glowing and Harvey can't help but smile. "We won." 

 

 

"Congratulations. So you're done?"

 

 

"Yes Harvey." Mike's eyes twinkle mischievously. "I'm all yours." 

 

 

Glancing down, Harvey focuses on a particular shot of him and Mike in his office. The sun is setting through the windows. Harvey is hard at work at his desk, while Mike lays prone on his couch, files covering everything for a three foot radius. It’s just right. How it should be and Harvey ends up marking his place in the album with a post-it before closing the book.

 

 

The two exchange a secretive smile just as Benjamin finishing rebooting the senior partner's computer, stepping back. "You're all set Mr. Specter." 

 

 

"That's it?" Harvey leans forward going over his recovered engagement letter. "Huh. I guess you are worth it," he comments. When he glances up from the screen he sees Benjamin admiring the new addition to his office wall.

 

 

"That's a very nice piece, Mr. Specter." 

 

 

Harvey stares directly at Mike, who looks mortified and embarrassed. "It is, isn't it?"

 

 

"The lighting is fantastic. Who's the photographer?" Benjamin asks stepping closer.

 

 

"Actually..." Mike's eyes widen in horror. "I took it."

 

 

"Really?" For the first time Benjamin shows some actual emotion. "I didn't know you were a shutterbug. Is it the only one, or is it part of a series?"

 

 

"Part of a series. The others were a bit much for the office, though."

 

 

From the hallway, coughing can be heard from Donna's desk.

 

 

"Too bad. I would love to see them." the darker haired man laments. "You have a very good eye."

 

 

Eyes trained on his phone, Harvey opens an album, prentending to not notice Mike paling in the corner as he hands it over to the brunette. 

 

 

Sitting on the edge of the desk Benjamin studies each photo; turning the phone horizontal for a larger view, completely engaged by the images. "My photographs tend toward chronicling the routine. Life moving forward over time, but these... It's as though you've captured the subject both figuratively and literally. Absolutely amazing, Mr. Specter," he stares in awe as he hands the phone back. 

 

 

"Yours are more transcendant than you think. I want copies of some of these, if you wouldn’t mind. 

 

 

“I would be honored, Mr. Specter,” Benjamin stammers. “I only take them for myself. To have someone else appreciate them means a lot to me.”

 

 

“And pick your favorite. I’ll send you a copy.”

 

 

“Really? I – This one,” Benjamin responds almost instantly, his eyes flicking to Mike and away just as quickly, handing the phone back. It’s the pictue of Mike, his face obscured, head down, spine bowed; just the bindings around his upper arms, wrists and subtle silver mobius ring  resting on the nape of his neck in frame.

 

 

“It seems only fair, I have one of yours.” Harvey admits, knowing this is the young man that took the photo of Mike he now keeps framed on his nightstand. The photo that started all this and ended up bringing them together.

 

 

"Thank you," Benjamin gushes, stepping out of the way as Donna sweeps in and snatches the phone before heading back to her desk.

 

 

“Mr. Specter doesn’t have your email address,” she explains airily. A second later a high pitched whistle and a low growled “mama” is heard coming from her desk.

 

 

"If you take any more,” Benjamin adds backing out of the office. “I'd love to see them.” He stops in front of Mike, a smile on his face. "I was right, Michael. The camera loves you."

 

 

Benjamin is hardley passed Donna’s desk when Mike stalks forward. “Harvey! How could you? No one will know, my ass!”

 

 

“And quite the ass it is,” Donna comments through the intercom.

 

 

“Hey!” Mike squeaks. “Do you mind?”

 

 

“Donna.” Harvey calls warningly. When the redhead quiets down, Harvey turns his attention back to his associate, at the very moment Louis comes sauntering in and snaps his fingers. 

 

 

“Mike. With me. We’re going out to celebrate.”

 

 

Just as Mike turns his head, Harvey’s booming voice draws his attention back. “No Louis. I’m taking him back.”

 

 

“You can’t do that!” Louis sputters. “You gave me your word.”

 

 

It doesn’t take more than a challenging stare before Louis folds, pointing at Mike. “You wait. You’ll screw up again and he’ll toss you aside. And when he does you’ll be begging to come back to me.” He spits before storming out.

 

 

Harvey watches Mike watch him go, uncertainty written plainly on his face. “Mike.” Harvey call in the same commanding and simoultaniously soothing tone he used that night. “Come here.”

 

 

Warily Mike walk’s over to the desk, surprised when Harvey stands, inches between them.

 

 

Mike’s acutely aware they are in a fishbowl, where anyone can see – most assuredly Donna who is unquestionably watching.

 

 

Reaching up, Harvey loosens Mike’s tie, unfastens the collar and the first few buttons on Mike’s shirt before reaching into his pocket and holding up the necklace, it’s silver glinting brightly in the afternoon sun. 

 

 

Questioningly, Mike looks at Harvey.

 

 

“It’s a Mobius ring. It represents interconnectedness, strength and eternity. It’s yours - ” And there’s more in those two words than need to be acknowleged aloud. “If you want it. If you want-”

 

 

He doesn’t have to finish his sentence beacause Mike bows his head so Harvey can fasten it around his neck. Once in place, Harvey places his hand over the ring against Mike’s bare chest, the blond’s head still down, in deference,both looking at the way Harvey’s hand is resting over his heart and soaking in the feeling of the metal warming against his skin between their combined heat. 

 

 

There’s a click.

 

 

In the doorway, Benjamin stands watching them through the viewfinder of Harvey’s camera phone, Donna behind him at her desk, teary-eyed. Boldly he steps into the room and hands Harvey the camera before picking up his clipboard and heading out the door.  

 

 

“It’s a good thing I forgot my clip board. I think this one will fit nicely in both of our collections.” 

 

 

The End… ?


End file.
